The south wing was sealed with soot-blackened chains.
No guards. No lanterns. Just echoes of the past.
Eileen slipped through the broken servant passage before dawn, cloak drawn tight, her breath silvering in the cold.
This was where the Starshade line ended—if the official records were to be believed.
She ran her fingers across the charred wallpaper, past portraits half-burned, eyes seared out.
One frame remained intact.
Her mother's.
And below it, an insignia carved into the wall—Ulmir steel over Starshade sun.
She touched the grooves.
Then behind a cracked tapestry, she found a chest.
Inside: scorched letters, orders from sixteen years ago. Some stamped with the royal seal. Others… signed by General Ulmir himself.
Her murderer.
Cyr's father.
Her hands trembled.
The handwri
